Dear Diary, I Hate You: A #SoWrong Moment by She’s a Maineiac

SoWrong

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In seventh grade, Darla wore her heart on her sleeve.

In seventh grade, I wore my heart on my sleeve, also my boob.

Also on her boob.

Once deemed by a reader as a “humor-infused mommy blog that doesn’t suck”, She’s a Maineiac, is also low-calorie, lactose-tolerant and good for the ozone layer.

Don’t try to find Darla on Twitter. She doesn’t hang there. Darlakins resides in Maine with her kiddies and her husband. And the real fun happens on her blog. Visit her there and she might buy you a coffee. Or you could buy her a drink. She needs one. Right now.

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Dear Diary, I Hate You

I knew the moment our sixth grade science teacher made us lab partners, John was The One for me. It was the way he smirked and shrugged. The way his dark Rick Springfield hair spilled into his eyes. The way he wore his faded jean jacket with the collar flipped up and his scuffed white high-top Reeboks oh-so-recklessly untied.

Oh, yes, he would be my boyfriend. I couldn’t wait to rush home and kiss my Ricky Schroder poster farewell.

John kicked the empty chair next to me to the side and plunked himself down on top of the lab table. “Hey,” he smirked and shrugged at me. Immediately, he began gnawing on his pencil and glancing over at the girl he was rumored to admire, Gina.

Gina. Pfft. Gina who had perfect hair and perfect nails and a perfectly stupid hot pink comb jutting out her back pocket with the bold (and vastly overstated) claim: HOT STUFF!

I looked back over at John, the object of my affection, who was now grinning maniacally as he stabbed the sharp end of his pencil into the earthworm splayed open on the dissecting tray in front of him.

No matter. I still loved him. And one day he would be mine because I had other, more sinister plans: to write John ♥ Darla with sparkly rainbow-colored markers all over the cover of my Social Studies book. Destiny written in purple and surrounded by Garfield stickers. But first I had to tell my diary about this momentous occasion in my riveting 12 year old life.

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My crush continued. John and Gina became a couple. Still, I knew our life together would begin sometime during the upcoming Spring Dance when he would finally confess his undying love for me; probably after we grooved to “The Safety Dance” but definitely before the slow, let’s-get-all-sweaty-and-awkwardly-slump-over-each-other song “Open Arms”.

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But along with Tracy, a year later and John was acting weird. He was avoiding me at the lockers. He wasn’t looking me in the eye as he stabbed at yet another defenseless earthworm. No longer was he tipping my chair back, or shooting rubber bands at me, or pretending to not really like me. Our spark was gone.

And I was truly puzzled.

Maybe Gina had forever sunk her perfectly manicured hooks into him after all? It was probably that damned hot pink comb that did him in. All my comb said was, “SUPER!” I knew I should have bought the other one at K-Mart! My life was over. My diary entries were a flurry of lost hopes and dashed dreams.

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The only thing deep down in my soul I knew to be true? Genesis did suck.

Then came the fateful day when John asked me if I’d like to share a piece of chocolate with him at lunch. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken him up on his offer. Maybe I should have passed on the sloppy joes earlier. Maybe the fact that his best friend Brian was laughing out of the corner of his mouth when he offered it to me should have alarmed me.

But maybe, just maybe…he liked me after all?

“Sure!” I gushed, and popped the bitter square of dark chocolate in my mouth, eagerly gulping it down.

“Ha ha!” John yelled, pointing at me. “You just ate EX-LAX! SHE JUST ATE EX-LAX!” He turned and grinned at his friends. My heart stopped.

It was an honest mistake! I swear I'm not normally so stupid.

It was an honest mistake! I swear I’m not normally so stupid.

Tears spilled down my hot cheeks. Brian and John burst into a howling fit of laughter, almost falling off the cafeteria table. I turned and ran down the hallway, barely reaching the girls’ bathroom. Plunging my head into the sink, I tried to spit out the vile candy, but it was too late. My stomach lurched.

I flew into a stall and prepared for the worst. “Darla? Darla?” my best friend Amy’s voice echoed in the bathroom. “It wasn’t really Ex-Lax! They were joking!” she yelled. “I swear, it wasn’t! We all ate some! It’s not Ex-lax!” It took several more minutes before I was convinced to leave the safety of the stall. I barely got through gym period without crying, certain a poop avalanche was imminent.

After school, I threw myself onto my pink canopy bed to write in my tear-stained diary about how the man I loved had betrayed me.

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But where was it, my cherished diary? The only place I felt safe enough to reveal my ultra juicy secrets? I could have sworn I’d left it on my night stand right next to my Laura Ingalls doll…

I peered over the side of my bed and there it was on the floor. My diary–its tarnished lock open, exposing the pages of my innermost dreams for the entire world to see.

Someone had been reading about the Man of My Dreams all along.

Someone knew how much I pined for John’s Reeboks.

Someone knew all my secrets.

My heart flip-flopped as I realized the ultimate horror–someone had told him I had a crush on him!

My brothers.

They all knew. Specifically, the older one who was only two grades above me and knew exactly what to say to make John steer clear of me for good.

I learned many hard lessons that year:

  • Never fall for a guy who does nothing but smirk and shrug.
  • Never buy the Super! comb over the Hot Stuff! comb.
  • Never eat a piece of candy you didn’t buy yourself.
  • And never, ever put the key to your diary right next to your diary.

Did you keep a diary? Who and what did you write about? Did anyone ever use your diary against you? If you didn’t keep a diary, where did you put all your juicy tidbits?

181 responses to “Dear Diary, I Hate You: A #SoWrong Moment by She’s a Maineiac

  1. Oh. Oh, girl. I can honestly say I’ve never been prank-fed laxatives. I’d imagine I would be really upset by the whole ordeal. Even as a kid you were a smart, witty writer, though. Genesis did suck.

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    • I’d like to think my almost eating laxatives in front of my crush helped me to build character. My diary entries were such a hoot, Tori. I had a blast reading it. Some of the stuff I said that I didn’t show here! Oh my.

      Genesis did suck. Thank you.

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      • Darla! I love you so much for being here today! My old diaries are in my parents house, and you have inspired me to rescue them. They do make great blog fodder. Thank you so much for sharing this story today. You are the bomb. Even if you didn’t like Genesis. What’s wrong with you? And Tori for that matter!😉

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        • Thank YOU so much for having me over, Renee! I had so many other entries I couldn’t bear to reveal to the world. I figured my ex-lax story was enough.

          I hope you can forgive me for not liking Genesis one day.

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          • I am not even kidding. I am reading this tragic/comic/wonderful blog post with “Stay With Me” playing softly in the background on YouTube. Not kidding. That’s just too eerie of a coincidence. What’s wrong with Genesis, anyway? (by the way, it’s spelled with 2 “e”s, grade-school Darla.)

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        • I am with Renee here…what’s wrong with you? Genesis was, like, so totally super and cool and all that. Where I’m from, you never slammed a serious art rock band. That was a social suicide possibly worse than having your diary broken into. But then, we were all just really seriously cool around here. Super Duper cool, in fact.

          I was an avid journalier. I still have my huge collection of self-important ramblings in my attic. Like you, I valued the word “SUPER” and used it often in my diary writings. I felt it lent an air of tweenish sophistication to my work, and even today, I cannot disagree with that level of dedication to achieving social averageness. You picked the right big comb, Darla. Just the wrong guy. First Clue: he stabbed at earthworms with a pencil. Whadda dick.

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          • I leaned toward “FABULOUS.” I still do. Is that bad? I might be. Also, I wear the same perfume I did in high school. It might be time to make some changes. That said, I’ll always appreciate Genesis; at least, the early years. And yeah, future tip to all girls: avoid the boy who likes to kill things. Like totally.

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  2. Pingback: Dear Diary, I Hate You « She's a Maineiac

  3. Loved this from the recklessly unitied Reebok’s to “I couldn’t wait to rush home and kiss my Ricky Schroder poster farewell.” Fun read of a painful time.

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    • Thanks, Georgette! I’m old enough now that I can look back at that painful time and get a laugh out of it. It took me 30 plus years though.

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      • I remember in college no less, I picked up a cream puff looking forward to the lemony taste of what was inside. Some joker had filled it with creamed corn! He got a short lived laugh though because my friends turned on him and brought it to the attention of the cafeteria manager. By then we had friends who really stuck by us.

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  4. You made me wonder if my life long poop problem simply came from not reading wrappers carefully. Could I be buying Cadbury’s Ex-Lax?

    My brother really did do that prank to Jeff Glass. It was gum though. Poor Jeff.

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  5. What a writer you are! And jeez do I want to give you a hug. I really enjoyed this story and cringed in all my inside spaces riding this unrequited love roller coaster with you. Well done! And great choice, Renee. Hugs all around!

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    • Aw, thank you! Hug accepted. Seventh grade was a nightmare. But by eighth grade, I finally realized John wasn’t worth any more of my time and I had the BEST year. Who needs silly boys?

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      • I went to the 8th grade dance with one of my oldest friends. Jeff, are you out there? Didn’t we have the BEST time at the dance? You know the one? Where you BARELY danced with me at all? It’s amazing that we have remained so close all these years later. Dude, you OWE me a dance.

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  6. I kept a diary. It was pink vinyl with a teenager on the cover and my parents gave me a new one each year for Christmas. I wore the key around my neck on a ribbon so my sister could not get to it and hid it under my mattress when I took a shower. I wrote all my dreams in my diaries, also all my fears, of which there were many, unfortunately. I had such low self-esteem, especially in grammar school when I didn’t get asked to the eighth grade graduation parties. I was totally crushed and wrote my little broken heart out in my diary.

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    • I hear you. Sigh. I think most of my life then was full of unrequited crushes/loves. But I really do think going through all that heartache helped me become a stronger person over time. (at the time, of course, I couldn’t feel nothing but the pain of being rejected)

      I used to keep the key to my diary inside a little jewelry box but I had that right next to my diary. My brothers were much smarter than I was back then, I guess.

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    • Maire: Do you still have it? Mine are in my parents’ house. I’m TOTALLY going to rescue them. I remember that I had a thing about trying to integrate one new vocabulary word each day into my diary in 7th grade. I think I thought I was sophisticated. I guess I should have known I was going to become an English teacher.

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  7. Oh Maineiac, you’re super. I smiled all through this. I’d hope a girl with brothers would be more careful, but live and learn, I guess.

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    • Aw, thanks for saying so and for taking a trip down memory lane with me! Yeah, one would think I’d have known better not to keep my diary out in plain sight. I think all that Aqua Net I used fried my brain.

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  8. Oh, the angst of young love. So many women of a “certain age” have diaries stashed in a box somewhere. I haven’t read mine in, oh, maybe 40 years? Youngsters today miss out on that rite of passage many girls had years ago. I fear their memories are lost in cyberspace texts and tweets.

    I felt your pain, Darlydoodleday. And I laughed🙂 Thanks.

    PS – Played my albums for the first time in years last week, including a very early Genesis LP. Didn’t find as many favorites as I remembered. I always thought I liked them, dreamy 70’s songs. Still, Phil Collins rocked Genesis and his solo career!

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    • Good point, Tar. Kids today mainly have twitter and texting. They won’t be able to sift through an old diary years from now and get a good laugh. What can they do? “Oh, remember that time I texted you: BRB :)! Such good memories!”

      I read my diary from cover to cover for this post and it was incredible to see the person I was back then, and how I’ve changed over time. So happy you enjoyed reading this story. It was kinda therapeutic for me to get this old unrequited love stuff out in the open.

      But I still don’t like Genesis. Back then, I was more of a Quiet Riot, Def Leppard kinda girl.

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    • It’s so true. So few kids actually write out their feelings in journals anymore. Every time a boy broke my heart, my diaries were there. I have a crap load of diaries. Tweets will be lost. It’s tragic.

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  9. Oh my god…this took me right back to the hideousness that is middle school. I’ve blocked out most of it, but this post has brought some of it back. I must now eat some ex-lax

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    • Hahahahaha! I never had an Ex-Lax moment, but I do remember someone substituting Nair for another girl’s shampoo. Good thing she didn’t keep it on her head long enough for it to do any damage. Kids can be so cruel. But 25 years later, it does make good blog fodder.

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      • Now that IS cruel, Renee. To be fair to John, the candy really WAS candy. Sure I was humiliated, but that was just a typical day in the life of Darla back then. It’s made me who I am today. A neurotic blogger.

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    • I am so sorry I’ve unearthed so many memories for you, Speaker. Just let all that buried crap out, you’ll be just fine. Ex-lax should flush it all away.

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  10. Please tell me you’ve heard over the years that John is now bald & sporting a beer belly…that needs to be the ending.
    I remember writing in my diary that I called Donny Osmond and he answered. I was trying to convince my friends that this was true because it it was written in the diary, it had to be TRUE.

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  11. Snoring Dog Studio

    I’m sure that John is now a big fat ol’ slob who has a soul-sucking job at a trucking company and Gina, whose hair is too think to wear a comb, is now having her 6th child. They paid for that cruelty. Oh, yeah. And your brothers? A special place in hell is reserved for them!

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    • They are both actually very nice people I’m friends with on facebook now. I know! I just got an email about our upcoming 25th reunion this week too. (I don’t plan on going, never been to one before)

      As for my brothers? well, one has a 13 year old daughter who looks exactly like me and is totally giving him payback for the stuff he pulled on me back then. Instant karma.

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      • You should go to your reunion. I helped to plan our 20th reunion (we were too lazy to do a 25th, but our 30 is coming up fast). All those kids who were really mean? They are actually nice. It’s incredible.

        Love that your brother has a daughter who looks like you. Karma is a bitch, and her name is Darla.😉

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        • I don’t know, it is my 25th reunion so I probably SHOULD go. You’re right though–we all do change so much over the years. I know I’m completely different now (in all good ways)

          My niece is the spitting image of me. Her personality too. My brother is sooooo screwed. mwa ha haaa!

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  12. Snoring Dog Studio

    I meant “too thin.” I was so angry!

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  13. Boys can be real tools. And yes, I’m talking about your brothers. 🙂

    I never really had a diary. Every once in a while, I would write in a journal/diary type thing, but that was in high school. I used to keep it behind my bed, and nobody even really knew I had it. I even forgot sometimes. Sadly, it is long gone, so I can’t review the silly teenaged angst within. I can imagine what a kick you got reading through your old childhood thoughts. Great post, Dar!

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  14. I did not keep a diary precisely because of what happened to you. My life was embarrassing enough without me adding to it!

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  15. Aww… John was a poopy head. (Can’t believe I just said that on a public blog.)
    Darla, you tell great stories though. I THINK I still have my diary…and I THINK…I’m too embarrassed to open it up and read what I wrote. Yup, cringing just thinking about it.

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    • No no no! Don’t be embarrassed! This is an OPPORTUNITY! I’m thinking we have a chance to actually do what the Darla has done. We need to create The Great Diary Linky and get a bunch of us to share shizz from our diaries. Sooooo funny. Darla, you are amazeballs!

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    • No, you go right ahead and call him a poopy head, Lily! I agree. Also my brothers were poopy heads as well.

      Read your diary! Do it. First have a glass of wine, get some tissues, then sit back and you’ll cry and laugh yourself silly. Really. The stuff I thought was SO big back then just makes me laugh now.

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  16. I still have my old diaries from middle and high school. I am afraid to read them. Afraid! The drama. I think I watched too many soaps back then. All that drama over boys who never knew I existed, which reading your fake Ex-Lax story makes me feel a little better that they didn’t. I’m sorry that happened.

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  17. Oh, I’m cracking up over here. I remember in 6th grade meeting this guy named Ben who I thought was the most amazing person ever and filling my diary with detailed analyzing of his every move and our brief conversations since we had lockers next to each other so it was a bit inevitable we would interact. I am not sure I would ever be brave enough to share some of the gush I wrote in my blog; it was pretty pathetic. And to his credit, he never did feed me Ex-Lax. My heart stopped when I thought you had been tricked into eating a laxative and then again when your diary was opened. I would have just died.

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    • See? We all have our own “Ben” or “John”.

      I have to admit, I did have a brief moment of “should I actually write about this stuff?” But then, I realized it was 30 years ago. I have nothing to hide now. I look back at my 12 year old self and just want to hug her. I was only doing my best to muddle through the angst and, besides, it made me who I am today. Thanks for reading!

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  18. I’m going to run turn my Super comb right now. Thanks for the tip!

    I eat everyone’s candy. I’m surprised this hasn’t happened to me: fake or real ExLax.

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  19. This is exactly why I didn’t keep a diary. I never ever let anyone know who I had a crush on. Or so I thought — it turns out, though, that gazing adoringly at the object of your affection whenever he’s nearby is actually kind of a clue.

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  20. Oh, jeez, I was squirming for tender little Darla as she learned a sad lesson about life. I can’t believe you still have the actual diary – that is too fantastic for words.

    Did your brother ever actually confess to the dirty deed? Somehow I think you may have payed him back. Just a hunch.

    I lacked the commitment to follow through with a diary. I must have had 10 of them that started with good intentions and 1 page of hopes and dreams slop, only to never be written in again.

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    • That little red diary has moved with me across the country and back. I will always keep it safely packed away. I’m sure my kids will get a huge kick out of reading it one day.

      I’m sure I paid them back. I was pretty tough back then. I knew how to give Charlie horses and noogies. But my brothers did so much worse than read my diary or tell a boy I liked him. They were ruthless. Except for my one younger brother, who was (and still is) an absolute sweetheart to me. We’re extremely close to this day. My other brothers have mellowed out a lot and don’t pick on me (much).

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  21. I kept a diary, too, Darla. It had a cover that was black and white houndstooth. I lost track of it over the years. All those precious little girl words gone. I remember writing about my first love. A little Italian boy named Christopher. It was 5th grade. My life revolved around him. His life revolved around a tall girl named Huckbuddy. Don’t ask. She had long brown hair and long legs. The only thing long on me was my face the day I wore a new dress to school thinking I was looking like “hot stuff” and SHE wore the same dress on the same day. It was a pink striped t-shirt dress. It looked like a fashion statement on her. It looked like a long t-shirt on me. For the record … Genesis does not suck!🙂 Also, I finally got the man of my dreams. I married a little Italian guy. I still can’t rock a t-shirt dress worth sh*t, but he doesn’t mind. He only has eyes for me. Great post! Made me smile.

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  22. I loved all the 80’s references – and man can I relate to all of this. Except the sibling reading my diary. No, my mom read my diary. Mine were mostly all plain notebooks and she read an entry about me losing my virginity. She said, “I thought it was one of your stories.” Bull-you-know-what. I didn’t write stories and she didn’t bother herself with anything else creative I did. Anyway, I don’t know who was sorrier (mortified, sad, pissed off) that she’d snooped, me or my dad.

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  23. Also, my very first grade-school crush was on a boy named John. He was a bad boy *sigh*. I lurved him. And I wrote about it in my diary too. I use some of my old diary entries on my blog from time to time. It’s amazing how much I haven’t changed – how much I haven’t learned yet over 43 years, lol. I haven’t written a real journal in a long time, but it was very theraputic back in the day. I guess now I blog, haha!

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    • M: I crushed on a boy named Jonny for a while. He told me I had hairy arms. Boys sure were jerks back then.

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    • You’re right, there is also so much in me that hasn’t changed in the 30 years since middle school. I still like chocolate and will eat it regardless of whether it might be Ex-Lax.

      I used to write in journals all through college too. Then I had kids. I barely have time to breathe. But blogging really is a kind of diary, isn’t it? A diary that perfect strangers get to read and comment on. We are crazy aren’t we?

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  24. I still have my diaries. And, horrible memories of middle school crushes … so wrong. {shudder}

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  25. Renee,
    Hereis the link to the Word Press Daily Prompt: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/04/12/daily-prompt-decisions/
    It’s the one for today in case you want to follow them.
    Mairedubhtx

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  26. Oh man I totally kept a diary and still do. Yah a lot of the pages are about crushes I had. But I always hid my journal. Once my boyfriend grabbed it from me and I chased after him. Let’s just say he’ll never do that again.😉

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  27. oh! my 12 year old heart is right there breaking with you. there is nothing like middle school infatuation and humiliation. stupid boys.

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  28. Darla, I think this younger version of yourself always knew the truth, and always held the real key to life: “. . . You know what? The song on the radio is by Genisis and they SUCK!!!!” Such wisdom from a seventh-grader.

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  29. I learned through trial and error the mistake of falling for smirkers, and in my case, cringers. I never kept a diary, which is just as well, because I too had brothers, and they would have crucified me. Actually, they did anyway, just without my written words as ammo.

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  30. Reading this took me right back to seventh grade. And reminded me yet again that I have always hated seventh grade boys, and I always will, and I dread when my nephews are in seventh grade because they will be jerks and I will hate them, too. And if they feed anybody chocolate-ex-lax-that’s-not-ex-lax I will beat them.

    No, I didn’t keep a diary. I wrote poetry. Which was pretty good, actually, but also a secret. Because if I wanted people to know how I was feeling, I wouldn’t have written the poetry. Obviously.

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    • Kids can be cruel at that age. I can’t say I was a total angel, either. I cringe at some of the stuff I said back then. I suppose we all got caught up with our emotions and hormones…But middle school was the worst. Actually high school wasn’t much better for me.

      That is so cool you wrote poetry! Did you save any of it? I wrote a lot back then too. Mostly fiction. I had a series of mysteries starring me and my best friend. I still have them, I should dig them out and make a blog post out of them.

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      • Yeah, I have a lot of them. Some are on these funny plastic squares called disks…? I don’t think I can get those back. Poetry and short stories… but the poetry was the angsty stuff.

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    • I wrote poetry and kept a diary. And you know what? I don’t know if my mother read my diaries. I’ll bet she did. But if she did, she never told me. They are still in her house. I’d imagine she’d have to pick them up at some point over the years.

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  31. Oh, Darla, I could see this story playing out like a movie – complete with Genesis music in the background.😉 Please send your brother’s address to me, so I can go there and kick his butt for reading your diary and telling.

    I never kept a diary, because I would never have trusted my mother not to read it! (Or any one of my three brothers.)

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  32. Hilarious and relatable post for us 80s folks. Pining after his Reeboks! Love it. I had high-top red Reeboks that I thought so “rocked.” (I noticed Usher on the Voice wears them! So retro, right?) I did keep a diary of sorts and wrote all kinds of depressing thoughts in it as well. Long after I moved away my dad said they found my diary/notebooks in a box and threw it away. (Yep, that made me feel real special). I prayed they didn’t read any of it! Sentimentally, I would have liked to skimmed through it. Being in love was so dramatic all those years ago. I also had the perfectly primped pretty girl in our class – Monique. I am secretly hoping she’s grown old, fat and unkept. A girl can dream can’t she?

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    • Oh, they threw them all away! (gasp) That sounds like something my mom would have done.

      Being in love was so dramatic back then, it was all-consuming. Especially if it was unrequited puppy love. I am cringing thinking about the day my own kids experience it.

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  33. I loved reading about your experience and your diary, Darla! I kept one, too. And I still have it. (It was returned a few years after a long absence.) I wrote about it here: http://bit.ly/vdALEY

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    • Oh Diane! I JUST read your post. And you just opened yourself up because Darlakins and I plan to contact everyone who has confessed to still having diaries.

      Because we’re hoping to do some kind of blog hop. Details will follow.

      Eventually. Be ready!

      Bwahahaha!

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      • I’m game! Bring it on.🙂 (And since I haven’t blogged in months, I need something to spur me to action…)

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        • I think the rule is going to be that you can write about absolutely ANYTHING — but you have to include actual photographic excerpts from your diary. Like Dar did. Can be funny or serious. I promise I’ll contact you! I think it will be great!

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    • I loved your post. I can’t imagine wanting to destroy my own diary. It’s a direct link to my past. Plus I got such a kick out of remembering the little girl I was back then. I would never want to lose my diary.

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  34. OMG, I was so there with you. I can never forget how awful and awkward everything was in the 7th grade. Bah! I also can’t believe how eerily similar your 7th grade picture looks like mine: same hair, same rainbow sweater, same smile. I wish I still had a copy. Great writing. Also, the only time Genesis didn’t suck is when Peter Gabriel was still playing with them, and Phil Collins solo is a total abomination.

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    • Totally agree. It was all downhill after Peter Gabriel left Genesis. Frankly, I went with Peter. Here’s one to make you cringe, JM. You remember “Groovy Kind of Love”? Hahahaha! So bad.

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      • You must stop torturing me, Renee.

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      • blowingoffsteamandmore

        HAHAHA Groovy Kind of Love was one of the preferred slow songs at our middle school dances but they always gave a big finish with Stairway to Heaven. Not sure how appropriate that song was for 8th graders but we loved it! Outfit of choice was my neon orange Body Glove tank top with super large armholes so you could see the smaller tank underneath and my white Treetorn sneakers and jean shorts. YES!

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        • Treetorns. Omigosh. I LOVED my Treetorn sneakers. I didn’t even play tennis. But those were really pretty sneakers. Mine had a green swoosh on the side. Some loser stole them when I was in gym. Can you freakin’ believe? Also someone stole my Mia clogs the day I got them. My mom was sooooo pissed. (Wow, that’s blog worthy.)

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      • THAT’S why Groovy Kind of Love has been stuck in my head for three days! Somehow, I’m going to get you back. Somehow.

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    • JM! I cannot believe you don’t have that picture! I would have loved to see that. I had two of those heart sweaters, the other in blue. My hair in that photo kills me. I probably spent hours with a curling iron and aqua net to get it to look that horrible. I cringe at the collar and the two necklaces.

      I had forgotten Peter Gabriel was with them. Now I LOVE him. I love his solo stuff.

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  35. Gosh, I used to write all the time on three ring paper. I had a secret hiding place way up high in my closet. I hid it with a towel. I don’t think my family ever knew about them. There was one guy who used to write me love letters . When we broke up I tore them up. I wish now I had them. He became a Professor and wrote many books.

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    • Mom, you can tell me now. Did you ever read my diaries? Seriously, I won’t be mad. You did, right? Also, they are in the red nightstand, and I TOTALLY want them. Please don’t throw them away. And if you didn’t read them, now is not the time to start.😉

      Like

    • That is a shame you tore them up! I think most of us have done that in the heat of the moment. I am missing a yearbook and I seem to remember tearing it up or throwing it away.

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  36. I think I had the exact same diary in the third grade. Eventually, I moved on to those Mead 5-subject notebooks, but I had a younger brother who actually respected my privacy though and never read my stuff. Can’t say the same for a college roommate who read my journal while I was out one night and then got pissed when I talked about her!

    I keep meaning to post some of those high school entries when I obsessed off and on over the same boy from 8th grade until senior year (more on than off, actually).

    Also? The very first heartthrob poster I had in my room was of Rick Springfield, (*swoon*) followed soon after by assorted Duran Duran pics and an eventual Patrick Swayze in a Dirty Dancing pose. Hubba hubba…

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    • Carla, I have to say my younger brother was more respectful of my private diary and wouldn’t have ever read it either. (maybe it was because he knew I could kick his ass?)

      I also had a very lovely poster of Patrick Swayze in overalls on my dorm room door. I think it was standard for everyone to have it on their walls back then. (by the way, LOVE your name, has a nice ring to it)

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  37. 😉
    I can’t believe you still have your diary! That is so cool! I burned mine when I was in high school -too afraid of someone finding it and ‘sharing’ my deepest thoughts!

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    • I’m amazed I kept it all these years. I have a few entries that were scratched out or scribbled over and I can’t for the life of me decipher them or figure out what was so secret. Thanks for reading!

      Like

      • I think it’s important to keep that kind of stuff. We should hold on to those awfully awkward times as a reminder — just in case we start thinking we’re too big for our britches! LOL

        Like

        • Exactly! It certainly reminds me of the girl I used to be and still am–awkward and socially inept, but willing to see the good in people all the time. So I end up possibly eating Ex-lax? Gotta take that chance.

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  38. Darla, I don’t know why you were kissing Ricky Schroder at all. He was MINE. The Silver Spoons’ theme song still pops into my head way too often – “Together, we’re gonna find our way, Together, taking the time each day, to learn all about those things you just can’t buuuuuuyyyyy…” Those lyrics sound a lot like the poetry I wrote in seventh grade, in my diary.

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  39. Darla, please tell me you didn’t marry him and that he and Gina married and she got what she deserved and so did he! Like, OMG!
    I didn’t keep a diary when I was younger, which I regret sometimes but then I think of my brothers and my younger sister. Any one of the them would have been beyond willing and ready to shout my secrets from the rooftops. I started keeping journals in my early 20’s and, and I’ve told my girls they are welcomed to read them all…after I’m dead!
    Now, if you’ll excuse me, this walk down puberty lane caused a big zit to break out on my nose!

    Like

    • Oh, don’t worry, John and Gina aren’t together anymore (I think they broke up a million times before high school) John is happily married, no kids, lots of cats. Gina I don’t really know.

      I have loads of “journals” from my college days. More existential stuff…why am I here, what’s the meaning of life, etc. Nothing too juicy (unfortunately) I also don’t want my kids to read any of them though until I’m dead and they’re sifting through my stuff! Thanks for reading–sorry about the zits. I have those too now that I’m nearing menopause. Lovely.

      Like

  40. Girls had diaries, but the boy in the 80s shredded by unrequited love had to stew in his own juices and dream about Christine McGlade from “You Can’t Do That on Television.” Nikki Morganson never gave me Ex-lax – I was afraid to get within 750 feet of her! Now that’s an unhealthy crush.

    I will, however, enjoy reading what went on in your diaries. Those little keys would fit in any diary, you know.

    Like

    • \\\Renèe A. Schuls-Jacobson\\\

      E: I love that you know the little diary keys fit into every girls’ diary. Sounds like you must’ve had sisters.

      If you want in on this little series I’m starting to plan, it’s not just for women. You’ve got daughters. Maybe you can come up with some kind of angle. Or make up diary entries of your own. It could be really funny. Think about it.

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      • I have daughters. I never read my sister’s diary. Honest! I do know that Marie entrusted me with the key to hers; when I lost it, I replaced it with a similar key and she never knew. Shh!

        I’d love to contribute. I could have been rich with the Hispanic version of “Diary of a Wimpy Kid.” I lived some of that stuff! I definitely have enough girl angst to share with you for your project.

        Count me in.

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    • Ha! OH I remember that show! Classic stuff. Am I crazy or was Alanis Morrisette on that show?!

      Like

  41. Darla this was terrible, unrequited love and ExLax combined? K-Mart combs being the pivot moment, hopefully Gina’s butt and boobs fell early in life and Jeff tripped on his untied laces.

    You on the other hand, you are a marvel of wit and charm.

    Like

    • Thanks so much, Val. And it was so terrible! To think if I had only bought the other comb at the K Mart blue light special with the paper route money I had saved up…my life might have been so different. But then, I’m glad it turned out the way it did. Things happened for a reason.

      Like

  42. I went to Maine and ended up in New York. Thanks for sharing, I remember the awful angst of 7th grade – not sure about anything a jumble on the insides. I never kept a dairy, I tried to but couldn’t keep it all together for more than a few entries. 7th grade boys are icky, I know – I teach 7th grade and live the madness year after year. Nice post!

    Like

  43. I started writing a diary when I was ten and I loved it so much. I would write everything about my dreams, my friends, my family, my crushes, little fights, weird problems….all of it in my diary and over the years I got so hooked to it…like I HAD TO WRITE no matter what. When I was 17, I fell in love and oh!!! I would write it all in my diary…about how he made me feel, how his voice echoed in my ears all the time and all the first love crap. Then, one day I realized that my MOM had been reading all of it….yes…everything about me, my friends, our boyfriends, the relationships, the breakups…everything and Fuck! that was it…She read so much…even about how I sort of hated her (you know the teenage shit) and things got bad…ugly. (Mom read only this latest diary, not the ones I had been writing as a kid. But, she read the one that ACTUALLY had big secrets) Honestly, I hated my diary then because the ‘whole’ of me was revealed and it was pathetic. I eventually stopped writing a diary.
    Even now I am so scared of spilling in my secrets in a diary because I can’t believe in the ‘pure luck’ that your diary can go un-read. So, I usually write about my life and my ‘not-to-be’ shared emotions in an anonymous blog. I guess its better that way…
    P.S : Only till the time someone who knows you reads it and I hope that doesn’t happen with me. Haha!

    Thanks for sharing this post. I really liked it!

    Like

    • I can totally relate to your post. I had all that teenage angst with my mother, too. But at least you learned that you NEED to write — like as much as you need to eat or poop. Thank goodness you never stopped.

      Like

    • I can understand why you’d feel that way. I actually didn’t write about my mom, if I did, it would have filled volumes. But I do agree that writing for me is a necessity, a compulsion–always has been and always will be. I need it like I need air to breathe. Good thing I have a blog now to write about this stuff. Thanks for reading my post!

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  44. Yeah when I stopped writing in an actual diary, I had this strong craving to write…so I would write stuff in my university text books…like in the middle of it…but hey! There were times my Mom found those too. It sucked so much. Then probably for 2-3 years I gave up…no regular diary and all and my old-good-relaxing-friendly-addictive habit was lost. I found it again…the craving…the habit…the need …about a few months back and its good to get back to it. Writing is the best pill for every pain🙂

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  45. I still wear white high-top Reeboks. But I always tie them, because there’s nothing more embarrassing than walking into a job interview and tripping on your shoelaces.

    I’m impressed that at age eleven, you knew how to spell weird. You’ve always been a writer.

    Like

  46. DP! This was so completely epic. I know I already told you this, but I DIED – DIED – at the hair comb and Genesis lines. I hope you got revenge, eventually. If not, I’m glad to help you plot – they’ll never see it coming at this point.

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  47. Oh, the horror! And I thought I just about died the first valentines day when I misunderstood (I was in kindergarten). This is way worse. Kids/guys can so suck. I love these posts with old diaries. So fun! I think my husband would be too insecure if I dug into that stuff. Sigh.

    Like

    • My husband was secure I wrote about my old crushes because he realized it was thirty years ago, and he has waaaay more ex-girlfriends from his past he’s never told me much about. Unfortunately, he has zero diaries for me to stumble upon and accidentally read.

      Like

  48. You’ll have to order at least 150, but you CAN be the shizz in orange, yellow or hot pink tress detanglers: http://www.promotionalproductinc.com/Promotional-Imprinted-8-comb_p247686.html
    Mine was Eric. Then Brian. Then another Brian… Time to revisit that old diary.
    Loved this story!!! And love your blog.

    Like

  49. Twelve year old angst. I know it. Er, correction: knew it. I often wonder what it’d be like to be able to swap bodies and minds with my younger self… Darla – if you could go back to then, with today’s mind – what the heck would you have said to John?

    Genesis suck. But Soft Machine, which I had to listen to one time (never again) were worse. I went through my teens listening to Zeppelin, the Who and that ilk… heavy, in other words, not pretentious prog rock!😉

    Like

  50. Pingback: Guest Posts for 2013: #SoWrong | renée a. schuls-jacobson's blog

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